Day to Day
by MadHatter524
Summary: "Petunia Evans, aged 19 years, 10 months, and 17 days, prided herself on being precise." Petunia doesn't allow her repetitive lifestyle to be bothered by her freak of a sister or THEIR lot. One of three runners-up to first place in KrossatGlass's "The Tentatively Titled Competition".


**A/N: Written for KrossatGlas's "The Tentatively Titled Competition". My title was #13 (Day to Day, if you hadn't guessed).**

Petunia Evans, aged 19 years, 10 months, and 17 days, prided herself on being precise. She didn't like surprises and kept her repetitive days free of them. She had a very strict schedule that she followed every day, full of perfectly normal activities that concerned everyday people. None of these events had anything to do with her freak of a sister, and that was the way she liked it.

Most days, she could forget that she even had a sister and focus on more important things, such as her gossip about all of her neighbors and her upcoming marriage to Vernon Dursley (which was in 5 months and 2 days).

Every day was the same. Wake up, get dressed, breakfast, read the newspaper, gossip, lunch, go for a walk, read the mail, tea, listen to the radio, dinner, watch the telly, sleep. Wake up, get dressed, breakfast, read the newspaper…

And day to day, it was the same in the circular connect-the-dots puzzle of Petunia Evans's life. Nothing unplanned or spontaneous, everything happening exactly when it was supposed to happen.

And then something was different.

She was absentmindedly sorting through the mail when she saw an envelope on which the name and address were written in very neat and very familiar handwriting. All that she bothered to read of the parchment inside was: "You are cordially invited to the wedding of James Charlus Potter to Lily Marie Evans…"

So the freak was getting married to the git that she had complained so much about? Good for them. She wouldn't associate with such…bizarre people if you had paid her.

A slip of paper fell out of the envelope. In Lily Evans's familiar penmanship, it read, "Tuney, I know that you probably won't come, but please at least consider it. You don't know how much I miss you – the old you. Love, Lily."

She didn't attend the wedding.

Petunia Dursley, aged 21 years, 2 months, and 8 days, devoted all of her time and energy into her family, or at least part of it. She would not bother herself with Lily Potter. She considered her only family to be her husband, Vernon, and their two-month-old son, Dudley. She still kept her schedule exactly the same day to day.

And then, once again, something was different.

Why was it always when she read the mail? This time, it was a card with the image of an infant boy with bright green eyes. The card read: "We are pleased to announce the birth of Harry James Potter, born July 31st, 1980…"

So there were more of them now? Another person for Petunia to disassociate herself with. There was no note inside the card begging Petunia to come visit, and she was glad of that. Her sister had finally decided to move on with her life instead of continuing to beg for the forgiveness that Petunia would never give.

She threw the card in the rubbish bin without giving it a second glance. She would not go to see her nephew, brother-in-law, or sister. She would not disrupt her perfectly normal lifestyle for _that_ group of people.

Petunia Dursley, aged 23 years, 3 months, and 27 days, didn't have a sister. It wasn't the kind of "not having a sister" when you pretended that your sister didn't exist. It was the kind of "not having a sister" that meant that you really didn't have a sister.

It was in the bottom right-hand corner of page four in the newspaper:

"**Two Killed, One Missing In Mysterious Gas Leak**

"James and Lily Potter died late last night, October 31st, due to a gas leak in their home. Their son, Harry, aged 1 year and 3 months, has not been found. Officials encourage other citizens to make sure they are not in danger of a gas leak in their home."

And that was it. Three measly sentences. Petunia kept telling herself that it was all that _their_ kind deserved in the normal world's news. She kept her day to day routine, telling herself that she didn't care. She wouldn't let this disrupt her perfectly normal activities with perfectly normal people.

Wake up, get dressed, breakfast, read the newspaper, gossip, lunch, go for a walk, read the mail, tea, listen to the radio, dinner, watch the telly, cry for Lily, sleep.

Wake up, get dressed, breakfast, read the newspaper, gossip, lunch, cry for Lily…

Wake up, get dressed, cry for Lily…

Cry for Lily…


End file.
